Whatever You Can Get
by bilbobraggins
Summary: Bilbo, done with adventuring, moves to Mirkwood, if only to escape her past. She thought she had something once, but she was wrong. In the end, Thorin cared more about gold than her. Alone and unsure of what to do, she finds solace in her new bodyguard Tauriel. :: fem!Bilbo/Tauriel, past fem!Bilbo/fem!Thorin. This was written and completed on Ao3 before the release of DoS.
1. Chapter 1

No one came to say goodbye. There was no tearful farewell, no promises of coming to visit her back in Bag End (though when she thought of it now, she was no longer sure that the Shire would even be pleased to see her should she return), nor even a simple parting gift. She left with a chest stuffed with gold, and an empty feeling in her chest.

So much for adventures.

Gandalf sat smoking on his horse. They did not meet each other's eyes, nor did they speak an entire word to each other that day. Perhaps he was regretting what he had done. Had he not known the dwarves well enough? Of all the dangers that he had listed, her own companions were not one of them.

The ponies they had taken were not too fast, and she spent a long time looking back at the scenery. Then came the boat ride to Laketown, where she made slight conversation with a sailor. It was just a few questions on the dwarves. Bilbo pretended to care, and answered everything he asked.

Still, she wanted to forget about dwarves. Her thoughts should not have remained focused on them.

The lake air did do good for her. It was so fresh, so different from the inside of a mountain that still stunk of dragon. She looked over the edge of the boat at the clear water. She could see fish swimming around. The slight chill did not bother her.

When lunch was brought out, she ate it heartily. Bread and fish had never tasted so good.

When the sun set, they reached the shore.

* * *

For a moment, Bilbo could not remember where she was. The room was too big, disorientating in a way. She blinked away the sleep from her eyes and slowly remembered. This was an inn in Laketown, a man place. The only good thing of it was that the humungous bed was at least soft. She wrapped the large blankets around her and went back to sleep; at least here she was not expected to wake early.

A few hours later, long past when anyone usually would be asleep, she finally opened her eyes again. She stretched out her limbs, then pattered to the inn's small kitchen. A tired looking woman was working there.

"Do you need any breakfast?" She wiped her dirty hands on her apron. "I can whip you something up."

"Oh no," Bilbo said. "If you would please be so kind, I could make it myself."

She frowned. "Really, I am a good cook." She yawned.

"No, I want to make a dish of my people."

The woman nodded. "I see. I will step out. Please do not use too many supplies."

"Of course I will not."

When she left, Bilbo began to make her people's "special" dish. Really, it was just eggs (done right). Her father had said that there was only a certain way to making them, and she had taken his words to heart.

When Gandalf finally found her, she was eating. He chuckled. "Do you believe that you will be ready to leave soon?"

* * *

They stopped to visit the famed bowman. Bilbo had met him before, but under much different circumstances.

Bard seemed a bit surprised to see her. He was in a large group, his children off to the side. All three of them had bows out. The people all had papers with them, plans for what they said would be a reclaimed Dale. The more the group spoke, the more that Bilbo knew of the old city of men.

"Halfling," Bard said, "it is good to see you again."

Bilbo nodded. "As for you." Absently, she rubbed the large lump on her head. Would it ever leave? Though her hair covered it, it caused a throbbing pain. Originally, she had hardly thought of it, too worried of the rest of the damage caused by war. "How have you been?"

"Busy," he said, looking around. "I had heard stories from my family when growing up of being the heir to a kingdom and never believed them." He chuckled. "Now, I have to be glad that I at least listened to my grandfather. Believe me, the people here will not let me forget my new duty." He looked off into the distance. "It was truly a surprise."

"Of course it would be." Her stomach twisted. "How have you been faring?"

"I am recovering," he said. "Everyone is. When I look back, it could have been much worse. That is my only comfort. But enough of that sad talk; let us discuss what truly matters: Dale will be even better than before."

"I have no doubt of your claim." The dwarves had spoken little of Dale on their quest. From what she could tell, their memory had seemed hazy. Those who remembered it were all high up officials; she doubted they had even left the mountain often.

Bard frowned. He clutched his bow tighter. "You have surely been asked of this before, but how are the dwarves?"

"I do not know. It has been a day since I left them and the amount of things that they can do in a day is horrific."

Bard chuckled. "I would say that you are right."

A man came up to them and held up a sketch. It was incredibly detailed, showing off a large tower with horns attached to the side. "This," he said, "would alert anyone of incoming attack. We have no need for any extra harm. I based it on what I have heard from before."

Bard's eyes lit up. "These look wonderful. Yes, this is certainly something that we need."

Bilbo closed her eyes, seeing the barren lands of what had once been Dale. Could it truly be remade?

Yes, she thought when she opened her eyes once more. These men were going to make sure.

* * *

They stayed an entire day and rested. Bilbo lazed around, indulging herself once more. The men had chocolate and other sweets still at their disposal. The air outside was beginning to chill, so she wrapped herself in blankets and sat in front of the fire. Gandalf played chess with her, an affair that ended in Bilbo winning three to one.

"You must have used magic," Gandalf said, clutching one of his pieces in his large fist.

"That is no magic, Gandalf." She chuckled, looking down at all of the pieces that she had collected from him. "That is simply skill."

"Then I must admit defeat." He placed the piece down, then put his hands in his lap. He did not move even an inch. No slight twitches, no twinkles in his eyes. Gandalf looked calm.

That was never a good thing.

"I have heard word that you are not returning to the Shire." His face went blank. "Now why is that? Not that I mind where you go. In fact, I have been looking for a companion-"

"Do not even dream of it. I am not interested in helping you meddle in the lives of others."

"Then what will you do?"

"Simple," she said. "I will keep traveling until I finally find where I want to be."

* * *

The next day, they packed up and left. They said their goodbyes, Bard promising that should she ever want to visit Dale then she was always welcome. She responded that she with a yes.

The future was bright, it seemed. At least until they stepped inside the forest. Other paths had destroyed over time, and they did not have any boats to pass the rivers with. Most trade with the elves had halted.

The forest seemed even darker than Bilbo had originally remembered it to be. She kept her ring in her pocket and clutched her sword even tighter.

There are going to be spiders, she thought. Not the kind you found inside your home, the small ones. Nor will they be the ones that you tried to scare the Baggins ones with. These spiders can kill you, at least if you do not kill them first.

* * *

"No thank you," Bilbo said to the servant.

They gave her an apologetic smile and went onto the next guest. Bilbo took a bite of the meat in front of her, the blood around it slightly pink. She had known that these elves were different from the others, but she had never realized just how so. This food would have disgusted Lord Elrond.

"One thing," Bilbo's mother had always told her, "is that the elves do not like meat. I would casually bring up my love of hams or beef and they would all pale."

It was certainly well done meat. When the servant came around again, she requested seconds, along with extra bread.

There really were not too many attending the dinner. Gandalf sat at Bilbo's side, clearly enjoying his own food. Without the dwarves around, eating was finally a peaceful affair. The elven king sat at the head of the table, his son on his left side and the captain of the guard on the right. All three were focused on their food. Other than the clink of dining utensils on plates and servants' footsteps, everything was silent.

They had been questioned earlier on why they were there, standard Mirkwood motto. But once that finished, they were not thrown into the damp, cold dungeons again (quite thankfully). If they were, Bilbo did not know what she would do again. One time was more than enough for her.

Still, the ring sat in her pocket in case she ever had use of it again.

What would the dwarves say if they heard of her doings? They would surely fall over dead.

Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. Still, she did not believe they would be too pleased to hear of her being here. Once the alliance on the battlefield ended, the dwarves had gone back to their rude comments. More than a few were made on Thranduil and his shagging habits - with trees of all things.

The scent of wine was thick in the air. After the barrel incident, she did not ever want to drink it again. Not that she had tried it before. The time in the prisons of Mirkwood had been hard on her; she had eaten little to nothing. By the time she had arrived in Laketown, she had been sick both because of the river water and because of hunger.

* * *

If she had thought that the rooms of men were large, then she felt absolutely overwhelmed by the rooms of the elves. Gandalf fit right in, but she had trouble even getting onto her bed. The room was large, made of nature itself.

She wrapped the thick blankets around her, unsure of what they were actually made of. Had her mother gone to Mirkwood? If she had, she had either never told Bilbo or she had forgotten of it.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Though she had no idea what she would be doing the next day (packing more supplies with Gandalf and looking for where to go next?), she was sure that she would be busy.

* * *

Two large hands wrapped around her throat, and two cold blue eyes met her own. There seemed to be no life in them, just an empty hate. She could feel her legs moving below her, looking for ground that was not there. So this was it.

This was where she would die.

It was an ironic, sad feeling. She had expected orcs to do the job, a few times she had been sure that her death would be at the hands of elves, and she had feared the dragon finishing her off. But no, it was going to be Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, whom she had single handedly saved from orcs. Thorin, whose brooding she had put up with. Thorin, whom had nearly cut her chest while she was trying to leave.

She looked over to the other dwarves. Their eyes were cold, filled with the same empty hate. Were those really the dwarves that she knew? Bofur was not happy, and Ori looked ready to kill. Nori was a good man despite his acts.

What was wrong with them?

There was no time to think over that; the final bit of air left her lungs.

* * *

She woke up in a cold sweat. Were it not for the strange blanket, she was not sure that she would have remembered where she was.

She might have believed herself to be dead.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you mean there is not even a first breakfast? How do you expect to go through any morning when you don't have any food inside your belly?" Her mind was still foggy from sleep, but she did not believe that the Rivendell elves were so ridiculous.

Tauriel frowned. "Do you think that I have any control over this? I was only instructed to come wake you."

Bilbo frowned. "I thought that you came to wake me for breakfast."

Tauriel balled her fists. "I came to wake you so that you and your wizard friend could see my king. Is that not a good enough reason for you? I have known Thranduil much longer than you have, and I can assure you that he is not a patient man."

Bilbo sighed. "Allow me to compose myself." She had slept in her clothes from the day before, really the only thing that she owned. She looked at the small mirror set in her room; it was covered in a slight layer of dust. How long had it been since someone had used that room? Using her sleeve, Bilbo wiped the dust away and then began to do her hair. Her unruly hair was rather messy and tangled; hopefully the elven king would allow her a bath. She would have picked one up in the warm Erebor water, water that flowed from the very depths of the mountain, had things gone differently.

"Neither he and I have all day."

"Not everyone can have fair elf hair that somehow manages to always stay in place." Bilbo ran her fingers through her curls. Oh, they felt awful! It really had been a while since she had washed it. And was that dirt that she felt? Oh, what else could be in there?

"I am serious; you need to get going." She pulled a knife from a hidden pocket and began to look over it. "We do not need Thranduil yelling at us. If you think that he is reasonable at the best of times, then you will have your views shattered."

Bilbo chuckled. Thranduil, reasonable? He had been against the Arkenstone idea and had been the one who put the dwarves in the dungeon in the first place. Though she would not be rude to him while visiting Mirkwood, she would not call him reasonable either. Yes, she preferred the elves to the west much more.

She tried to deal with her curls one last time, then gave up. She wiped her fingers over her trousers; if she was lucky then she could wash them later. If not, well... Well, she would have even dirtier clothes than before.

"Show me the way," she said with a smile.

Tauriel grunted, but led the way. Suddenly, she stopped, pulling something out of yet another unseen pocket. She threw it to Bilbo, who caught it with a surprised noise, one that could only be described as a squeak. "There is your breakfast."

Those were the worst seeds that she had ever eaten. She almost wished to throw the small pouch back at Tauriel, but stopped herself. Even if the seeds were not any good, breakfast was still breakfast, and she wanted the rumbling in her belly to stop.

* * *

Bilbo did not see what they needed to be in the royal throne room for, but she did not complain. She shivered under her clothes, designed for the chill of a cold lake, not an underground forest. Looking back, there was a reason that the blanket had been so thick. If it bothered the elves, they did not show it. Their clothes looked thin, though not to the point of Elrond's. But besides armor, they wore only simple robes.

Thranduil sat on his throne, a pout on his lips. His hands were clenched at his side, and every few moments he would open them to clutch at something invisible. The stone faced prince hardly ever looked over to her or Gandalf. A few other elves stood nearby, some looking better than others. Some had large scars covering their face, while others looked red eyed and hungover. At their sides were large knives and quivers that looked heavy with excess arrows. This was not the face of the elegant elves of Lord Elrond. If there was great wisdom or medicine to be found there, then Bilbo had yet to see them. Was there even a library? How advanced was their medicine when compared to the other elven societies?

Months ago, she would have hidden her interest in those subjects, both back in the Shire and on the quest. Elves were something that a child became interested in, then forgot about. Looking for them as a child had been child's play, an interest to grow out of. Why would any elf be in the Shire woods anyhow?

Mentioning elves on the quest, especially early on, would have gotten her ostracized. She could have admitted to committing a disastrous crime before her interest in the fair folk. There was nothing that the dwarves seemed to hate more than them. Before Bilbo tried to save Thorin, she was sure that if Thorin had to save any of the two, Bilbo or Thranduil, that she would have chosen Bilbo in a heartbeat. No matter how useless that she thought her to be, she at least was not an elf.

"Gandalf," Thranduil said, "you stated earlier that there was something that you wished to speak to me of."

Bilbo looked over to him; he kept his face blank. "This is no place to speak of it." He clutched his staff. "Besides, there is much that we need to discuss."

"You mentioned your issue being important." Thranduil's frown deepened. "Is this not something that we must discuss?"

Gandalf sighed. "If you must know, it is something that many here could do nothing about. You are the one in charge of this realm. Or has something else come up concerning that?"

Bilbo had to force back a chuckle.

Thranduil's gaze tightened on him. His beady blue eyes looked as sharp as the knives that the other elves carried. "Then what else is there to discuss?"

"If we are not allowed to stay any longer, then my companion and I would like to leave-"

"Companion?"

Gandalf sighed. "Bilbo and I would like to leave if you do not wish us to stay long. We would like to leave with protection, as to not be killed by spiders. Could not a few archers be spared to help us?"

Thranduil's cold gaze shifted to Bilbo. "Why are you so concerned of your status as his companion? Do you wish to stay here?"

Bilbo could suddenly feel what felt like the eyes of every elf in Mirkwood on her. Other than the sound of her own heartbeat, she was sure that everything went silent.

"If you would like," he said, and surprisingly not unkindly, "you may stay here. You are most welcome."

Bilbo reminded herself to breathe. She looked down at her feet, her head spinning slightly. How had he interpreted it that way? The longer she stood to think, the harder the gazes became.

"Oh," Gandalf said, "give her the time to think. Do you at least not have the decency to do something as simple as that?"

Thranduil sighed. "Well, go on then. Do as the wizard likes and think. You are certainly welcome here."

Bilbo swallowed her anger. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, to not think about everyone around her. In the end, the choice was hers. Whatever alliance that they had formed before the battle and over the Arkenstone, it had apparently been strong enough for Thranduil to allow her to stay there.

* * *

"The Arkenstone," Thorin had said with pure awe. Her eyes had grown wide, a sort of wonder filling them. "It shone like snow under the moon, like water on a clear night. There was a light to it. When it was discovered it was seen as a holy symbol. How could it not? What I would not give to see it again." She had turned to Bilbo, her eyes filled with something that Bilbo could not identify. "That is why you are here burglar."

The air had stilled. She had said something similar to it before, but that was when all the other dwarves had been with them. Somehow, the eyes of all the dwarves on her combined with Thorin's were not the same as the ruler's.

The only thing that Bilbo could hear was her own heartbeat. She had read that contract, had listened to the dwarves prattle on in her home about what would be expected of her. Never once had the Arkenstone been mentioned. No, she had to face a bloody dragon! She had nearly gotten burnt to a pile of ash for that, and yet all Thorin could think of was using her to find her family's rock.

"Find it," she said. "I need it; it is my holy gift, the sign for my family and my people to take our rightful position as the leaders of Erebor."

This Thorin was different. She was not the Thorin of private, the one who came to bed with her in Beorn's or in Laketown. Nor was this the broody Thorin from the quest, the one that Bilbo had jumped in front of an orc for. All this one cared about was a rock, a rock that was not even that wonderful.

It had taken Bilbo's breath away when she had first seen it, but the beauty had quickly slipped away. Once she held it in her own hands, hid it in her own pack, she had realized just what it was. A knickknack, a pretty one admittedly, but nothing but a stone.

Thorin Oakenshield was ready to die for a rock.

"Bring it to me," she said. "Bring it to me and I will give you anything that you could ever ask for."

Bilbo forced back a laugh. For the last few days since they had gotten into the mountain not one of her requests had been answered. Even her gift of the mithril coat did little to help her. There had already been incidences, such as when Thorin had refused to let her leave.

If Thorin would not read or follow the contract that she herself had helped make, then Bilbo would.

"Go on," Thorin said, looking at her but not quite, "and bring it to me, halfling."

* * *

She opened her eyes and released a heavy sigh, one that she was sure that she had been holding ever since the fear that the dragon would return had vanished. The treasure had been theirs, and the dragon had made no sign of ever returning, and they had been sure that their problems were over.

Bilbo looked up at Thranduil, dead in the eyes. She had her ring with her, but there was no use for it. "I will stay here. I thank you for this offer."

Thranduil nodded. "Then if that is your wish, stay. Stay as long as you wish." He folded his hands together and looked back to Gandalf. "And you, wizard?"

So that is that, Bilbo thought. She had expected a bit of a longer response, but it was alright. She could stay here.

With a heavy feeling in her chest, she reassured herself that as long as she was here there would be almost no chance that she would run into a dwarf. Why would they ever come here? Even in the Shire a rare dwarf had passed through from Ered Luin, which Thorin had said her people would come from.

Here was the best place that she could think of.


	3. Chapter 3

They were only a few feet away, but she had never felt so far apart from someone before in her life. It was not a goodbye, but she was not sure that this could be called a goodbye either. Both stood watching each other, waiting for an answer to a question that Bilbo did not even know.

Her head was spinning in circles. Maybe she was imagining the dwarf in front of her. Why would Thorin come to see her after what had happened?

She still stood tall, dressed in full dwarf armor. Despite her many new scars and the clear limp in her leg, she was fine with walking up straight. The pride that always surrounded her was there to stay it seemed. Bilbo could not read her facial expression; it seemed somewhere between a sneer and a grin. Perhaps it was better than the usual frown.

Or perhaps not.

"Well," Thorin said, "are you not coming back?"

Bilbo stood frozen, images flashing through her mind of what had happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mind could not think of an answer. All she could say was "Thorin."

"Yes?" She raised a dark eyebrow, her usual scowl returning. "Well, are you coming? I do not have all day. Erebor needs to be rebuilt, and if you are to begin checking over the library and looking over building plans then you must get going."

A sudden wave of something flashed through her. But what? Why could she not understand anything? What was wrong with her?

Her heart was beating so fast, and she could still hear Thorin screaming in her ears. It was just over a rock, a damn rock! Who cared if it sparkled in a certain way under a certain light? A rock-

"Hurry up," Thorin said harshly. "As I have said, I do not have all day." She narrowed her eyes. "We must be off."

"No." It felt like someone else was saying it, that she was just watching it from the sidelines. She had felt something similar before. Watching others fight in the Shire markets, getting violent over frivolous things. Oh, she had thought it ridiculous but had done nothing to try and stop it. She had seen no point in it.

But this could not quite be classified as the same thing either. She had at least felt some inkling of control in that.

Thorin's frown deepened. Yes, that was certainly a familiar face. "No?" She looked at the ground. "Grab your things. I cannot stay in the cap of the men all day. Hurry and collect your things; we must get back to Erebor in time for supper. You would not want to miss that, would you?"

Bilbo could not even tell if she was hungry or not. And really, what did that matter now? She was being told what to do as though she were a child. "No."

Thorin clenched her fists. "I said to get your things."

"No." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "No."

"Look, if you are worried about what might happen there, do not. The dwarves there are good folk, and I can get you extra food rations. The beds are warm, and no harm should come to you."

"No." A rush of anger ran through Bilbo, and that was what brought her back. "No, no, no! No! How many times must I say it?"

Thorin stiffened. Bilbo's yelling surely must have gained some attention.

"I am not going back with you."

"But Bilbo, we agreed to stay together-"

"We agreed to stay together so long as you protected me! And what did you do? You, the very dwarf who promised to keep me safe, nearly killed me!"

"Bilbo, you must understand-"

"No! I do not need someone like you around me. I want you to get away from me!"

Thorin froze.

"Leave," Bilbo said. "You have stayed here long enough."

"Then where will you go?"

Bilbo froze, the question hanging in the air. She grabbed her things and left as quickly and quietly as she could.

* * *

Bilbo sighed. She was thinking again. Thinking was not always a good thing.

* * *

This was her first proper goodbye in a while. Perhaps that meant that it was supposed to mean something, to make up for all the goodbyes that she did not get before.

Bilbo cleared her throat. The wizard had made no sign of starting, so it seemed that the first to speak would have to be her. "I believe this is truly where we part paths."

Gandalf chuckled. "I am sure we will see each other again, Bilbo."

"Yes, but how long until then?" Considering the amount of times that the wizard had left the company, it seemed that he had his own business to attend to.

"Perhaps longer than either of us would like," he said, "or sooner than either of us would ever want."

"Has anyone ever told you to stop speaking in riddles?"

"Oh, many times. You are speaking nothing new to me." He reached out a hand. "Let us part in good spirits, old friend. Is that not good?"

"Yes," Bilbo responded. "That would be good." She took his hand, and they shared a hearty shake.

"I must be honest with you, I never saw you as the type to stay in Mirkwood. It seemed too gloomy for someone like you."

"Then perhaps you do not know me as well as you think."

"Perhaps not. Well, wherever we meet next, I hope that it is in good health. Do not go and get yourself eaten by any spiders."

"I should be telling you that; you are the one going out into the woods."

Gandalf chuckled. "You are correct. I wish you the best of luck while here. Now that I think of it, this might turn out to be one of your favorite places. As much as I would like you as a companion, I am sure that you will find good fortune while here. During my travels with you, I have noticed that you seem to have quite a bit of luck with you. Do not ever let that go waste."

"Goodbye, Gandalf."

"And farewell to you, Bilbo Baggins."

Perhaps his words were true.

* * *

Yes, she had faced dragons and killed spiders all by herself, but when she thought about it, more than anything, she just wanted a good, hot cup of tea. Adventures could be nice, but nothing compared to getting to sit back and relax. Taking an ancient looking kettle from the king's kitchens, probably as old as him, she walked back to her room. She had been taught how to make tea over the fire, and the fireplace in her room seemed just fine for the job. The tea, what the elves in the kitchen had given her, was different from what she had smelled before, and its name had not been given. She took a small bite of the leaves.

It was certainly bitter.

Well, this was as good as it would get. Starting the fire, she placed over it her kettle and let the water boil. With her spare time, she decided to explore her room; she would be living there.

While she waited, she learned a number of problems. For one thing, her dressers was filled with clothes, but not a single thing came close to fitting her. Rather than look elegant in a long skirt, she would just end up tripping over her own two feet. The fabric, when compared to what she had worn in Rivendell (much to the dissent of the dwarves), was much harder and thicker. It was darker in color, a deep green rather than white. There was no special embroidery or added decorations.

Well, as dirty as her adventuring clothes were, they were the most practical.

Maybe after tea she would explore the elven markets. She had heard word of it while in the dungeons; maybe it would have something practical for her to wear, and if not then maybe it would at least have fabric.

* * *

She had pictured something like the fictional markets of Dale, overflowing with goods and traders. Or maybe it had been more on the lines of what Erebor's marketplaces had once been. Though they did not have near the variety of practical goods, they at least had something grand that any dwarf would surely let loose a few coins for. From the way the dwarves had made it sounded, it had seemed like the first day that it opened that everyone would go there. It would be a link to their past, yet with all new items.

Bilbo had at least hoped for something similar to the markets in Bree or even in the Shire. At least they had a selection of goods that could be used by just about anyone and were set up practically. From the way this place had been designed, it seemed as though the wood elves might as well have made a giant maze. Who designed this? Why could she not find a single stand for clothing?

Oh, but there was no lack of places to buy medicine, weapons (and more often than not bows), and wine. Bilbo continued walking forward, at least looking for a stand for books. Those were not practical, but they were good entertainment. Bilbo could feel comfortable anywhere with a good book.

"Miss," a voice said.

She turned around to see an elf selling knives. He looked over her, seeming confused by her race.

"I was wondering if you were interested in looking over my wares."

"No."

"But you have not even looked!" He held up some knives, shined to perfection, with dark brown wooden handles covered in small holes. "They are a recent design, made to better fit-"

"No." She pulled Sting from her side. "This is good enough for me."

The elf looked it over, his face twisting into the look of one who had eaten a sour lemon. "Oh, yes. What a fine quality knife that is as well, Misstress-"

"It is a sword!" She turned away. There was nothing quite like the classical style, thank you very much (even if that one style was found in a cave of troll treasure).

She continued walking, looking around the various stalls. A few had seen the conversation with their own eyes and did not speak to her. Others tentatively waved her over, then stopped when she showed no interest. Only a few other elves seemed to be out shopping at the time as her.

As she walked, she began to grumble. Had this been a good idea at all? Really, what was she thinking, staying in Mirkwood of all places? If anything, she felt even worse about this than when she had gone on the adventure!

"Excuse me," said another voice.

She turned around, ready to yell at them, but stopped. They looked tense, ready to step away from her at any moment.

"I noticed you wondering the stalls and was wondering if you were in need of help. Do you need some help?"

Bilbo sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, please and thank you. Some help would be wonderful."

"What are you looking for?"

"A clothing or fabric vendor," she said.

She frowned. "I must apologize. They only are open on certain days of the week, and that usually varies by the day."

"Well, thank you at least for that word of information."

"You are quite welcome." The woman began to walk away from her. "You are not from here, are you?"

"Oh, what would ever make you think that?"

* * *

When she finally got back to her room, she was just about ready to collapse. If there was any energy in her left then she would have made some more tea, as awful as it was. At least she would have had something to clear her head.

Falling into a heap on her bed, she prepared herself to sleep. Who cared if she was still in her only good clothes?

That was when her eyes fell on the envelope. With the way it was designed, she could tell that Thranduil or one of his servants had prepared it. She ripped it open, revealing a formal invitation to dinner. Beneath that, however, she could tell that he demanded her to come.

It was in only two hours.

Just as soon as she was in bed, she was out of it. She had been shown where some baths were found, and she had a lot that needed to be cleaned.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been such a long time since she had been able to bathe. Something so simple and peaceful to her had been a luxury to her on the journey, unless of course she wanted to go jump into a freezing cold river. Rivendell had been equipped with fine baths, made of fine white stone and filled with crystal clear, steaming water. Mirkwood was nowhere near as fancy, but it could not be called bad either. The royal baths were large, and the water was warm. There was soap provided, a hard kind that smelled of a mix of various herbs. It was rough against her skin, but that only made her wash herself faster. Ever since she had left Erebor with Gandalf, she had gotten herself covered in dirt. It was like she had a magnet attached to her, attracting it to herself.

Once she finished with that, she pulled herself underwater and began to comb her hair with her fingers. The long brown hair surrounded her, floating upwards. In that moment, all that mattered was getting herself clean. There was no journey, no dwarves, not even an upcoming dinner. All that there was were Bilbo's fingers and the dried mud floating out of her hair.

Frankly, it was disgusting of it. That and the lack of air made her leave the water. Once at the surface, she took long, quick breaths, as if though the world would run out of air.

Bilbo was too busy focusing on breathing to notice the woman standing near the entrance.

"Ahem," a voice said.

"Oh, hello, Miss Tauriel."

The woman snorted. "Are you done yet?"

"There are other baths available!"

"These are not for me," she said. All the same, she took off her clothing and laid them on the ground. She did keep her quiver of arrows and bow with her however, placing them on the edge of the tub. She turned on the water. Her long hair fell over her breasts, though Bilbo could make out the faintest hint of her nipples. "If you are concerned with modesty, then I would suggest that you leave soon. My comrade, Legolas, has expressed desire for wishing to bathe as well." Tauriel moved with efficiency, bothered by Bilbo's eyes. The elf woman's eyes met her own, and she quickly looked away. Oh, how rude she must have looked!

Bilbo turned red. "I understand." She had never moved faster then when she left the bath. Picking up her clothes off of the floor, she cursed herself for taking so long. Already, the woman looked half done, and water had not even completely filled the tub.

"I must be going," Bilbo said. "My apologies."

Tauriel's only response was a grunt.

At that moment, Bilbo wished that she had her ring on her. All the way out the room, she could feel Tauriel's eyes on her. She must have looked ridiculous, running out sopping wet and uncovered. At least her room was close.

"Oh Yavanna," she whispered, "would you be so kind as to make her forget what she just saw?"

* * *

Back in her room, Bilbo had used a spare blanket as a towel. It was not the best way to dry, but it got the job done. Once her clothes were back on, she did her best to fix her hair. If something happened, Gandalf would not be able to help her.

Everything now rested solely in her hands.

* * *

Luckily, Tauriel seemed to not notice her at the dinner table. She sat next to Legolas, her bow still on her back. The food was untouched, though the servants were pouring wine.

A fine table it was, covered in foods that Bilbo had never seen before. It was a feast fit for a meeting of kings. Thranduil had certainly overdone himself. There was hardly even anyone at the tables, save the king, his son, Tauriel, and a small scattering of elves. It did not take her long to spot where she would be sitting; it had a few extra cushions on top of it, and a small footstool next to it. Bilbo would have said that she was not as small as they thought, but stopped herself. Before her was a whole collection of food, a feast that even hobbits would probably never know. Complaining in front of the very king who allowed her inside of his realm would be far from courteous.

On the walls hung a collection of antlers. Bilbo searched her mind for compliments, some small way to thank him for what he had done. Or maybe she could say something about the robe he wore.

Her stomach grumbled. Then again, she could always compliment the food.

"I am pleased to see you have arrived, mistress hobbit." Thranduil raised his glass. "Would you care for a glass?"

Bilbo nodded. "The same to you, Your Majesty. And a cup of wine sounds delightful." She could only see herself drinking one glass. Who would that hurt? "May I ask what it is made of? I have tasted red wine before, but never have I smelled anything quite like this. Are they even made with grapes?"

Thranduil smiled. "Yes, we do use grapes, though that is not our main crop. What we can grow, we do. Pomegranates and cherries are grown as well, and both get mixed in with our wine."

A servant poured a glass for her.

"Thank you," she said, then took a long sip. Yes, she could definitely taste something that was surely not grapes. This was certainly different from what was back home in the Shire. To think that she had considered the stuff at home hard! Already, her head was swimming. "Oh, this is delicious. It tastes different, but delicious."

"I would expect it to taste different." He took a sip, his eyes never leaving her. "The men of Lake Town are still eager to purchase it." He placed down his glass, and began to tap his fingers against the edge of the table. "Go on and eat. This dinner is all but begging to be consumed."

Oh, and he could not have been more correct. There were meats of all kinds, and various fruits and vegetables. Bread of all colors sat before her, some covered in seeds. Delectable dipping sauces were placed in small bowls around the table. The clean plates in front of her were soon filled to the brim. First, Bilbo packed on what she wished to eat and what she knew the food was, then went back and got adventurous. She selected exotic new elven dishes, food that she had never so much as imagined to her. It was a mystery waiting for her.

The elves, in turn, did the same. Tauriel had grabbed some meat and was digging in rather improperly. No Rivendell elf would have gotten food on her chin. Legolas also seemed to not be so proper. He ate with large bites, digging through his food. If Thranduil minded, he did not show it. He himself ate a rather strange pace. One moment, he was eating small bites repeatedly, as if he wanted to make the food last as long as possible. Other times, he was scarfing down food in two or three large bites.

The meat, what she guessed to be venison, was well cooked. Whoever had made it had known what they were doing. She piled on seconds and thirds. Once she had taken her fill of recognizable food, she finally took a taste of the strange food that the king had provided her. It opened a hole in her stomach, and she was quickly eating even more.

Thranduil chuckled. "Is the rumored great hunger of hobbits true, then?"

"Have you tasted any of this? My question is this: How do other races not eat as much as my folk?"

She licked her fingers when she finished, taking every bit that she could. A few of the elves eyes were on her, seeming shocked at what she was doing. A rush of excitement ran through her. A servant walked past, and Bilbo motioned to her. "Could you please bring out more?"

More food was brought out, and new, clean plates as well. Her wine was refilled, though she had hardly drank any. It was filled nearly to the brim, and just the slightest movement made the blood red liquid shake.

"Would you tell me what it is that I am eating? This is wonderful!"

Thranduil smiled. "Many of these are native dishes of my people. I grew up eating these, all of it made from what our forest could provide. This may not seem like a farming area, but we figured out ways to still make food such as this. What you are eating at the moment is a mixture of nuts and grains. The pudding that you just ate a short while ago was actually an old recipe that has been passed down for some time." He continued to prattle on, listing off the facts about the food. Bilbo joined in, the two sharing facts of what they knew on food. There was a light in the king's eyes as he spoke, weaving the history of Mirkwood with the facts on their food. While he spoke, his fingers did not even touch the edge of his glass of wine. No one else tried to join or interrupt the conversation.

* * *

The longer that the dinner went, the more food that was brought out. Once the two had finished speaking of food, the conversation drifting before finally breaking apart altogether, Thranduil began to speak in elvish with his son and Tauriel. A few of the other elves joined in. Bilbo had studied the Rivendell style elvish tongue, but the Mirkwood one was a completely different dialect. She could make a few words here and there, but when pieced together none of the words made any sense. All she could do was follow along the elves' faces.

Thranduil's frown had returned, as had his hand to his glass of wine. Legolas was grave faced, but he spoke the least. The others at the table looked pale.

Then, Tauriel yelled. Bilbo put her hands to her ears to block the noise, and a few others did as well. The sound echoed throughout the hall. What little that Bilbo could make out was "how", "unable", and "ridiculous".

Bilbo swallowed the lump in her throat. The elf maiden's eyes had met hers, her gaze as sharp as the knives that she carried.

Thranduil responded angrily as well, but he kept his tone down. He spoke so quickly that Bilbo could not catch a word that he was saying. Tauriel would turn to Legolas at times and speak to him just barely above a whisper. By now, Bilbo's stomach was turning too much for her to return to her food.

Maybe she should not have consumed so much. With the way the night was going, she did not want to end up seeing her meal again.

Her glass of wine shook on the table. Bilbo tried to focus on the moving liquid, tried to ignore the elves around her. Surely she could not have actually caused this. Could she? Tauriel could have been saying anything to Thranduil. They had gotten out on a bad start, but surely things could be fixed.

Then there was a word that Bilbo clearly understood, only because there was no word for it in elvish. Tauriel said a few words, then said "Arkenstone".

Bilbo looked to Thranduil, then cleared her throat. "Please excuse me, dear king of this realm, but why are you speaking of that stone?"

Tauriel looked over to her. "We are not. We are, however, speaking of something that concerns you."

"What?"

"My king believes that you are in need of a bodyguard. Specifically, he believes that I should guard you."

"What?"

"Tauriel!" Thranduil scowled. "It is your duty to obey me!"

"This is not what I am hired for! I am the captain of the guard, not a hobbit's babysitter! Besides, what does she need a guard for? She stole the Arkenstone."

"Tauriel, she is our guest! We have visitors come from Lake Town all the time to review trade agreements and we always give them bodyguards!"

"You never make me do it! What's next? When Bard comes around will your son have to follow him around?"

"We are not speaking of Legolas!"

"But why make me do something like this and not him? I am only one rank below him!"

"I have my reasons!"

"And what are those?" Tauriel's fists were bone white from clenching them so hard. "I would be delighted to hear them."

"I do not need to tell you! You just need to follow my commands!"

"Thranduil," Bilbo said, "really, I do not need Tauriel around! Neither of us are interested."

"No!" Finally, he was screaming. Even Tauriel had to cover her ears. "Tauriel, you work for me. When you earned the position of captain of the guard, then you assumed whatever duties came with it. If I believe that you need to guard our guest then you will." He turned to Bilbo. "And you, Bilbo Baggins, will follow my orders as well. So long as you stay here, you are under my rule. Do you understand?"


	5. Chapter 5

Throughout all the rest of the dinner, she could feel the woman's eyes on her. If she thought Bilbo was scared, then she was wrong. Tauriel was an elf, not a dragon. It was not as though Bilbo wanted this either.

The dinner did not even last much longer. Everyone had quieted, and most had stopped eating. Still, food lay before them, untouched and beckoning to them.

Bilbo ate one last serving of meat. She did not know how she forced it down; her stomach was twisting and turning. If it all came back up later she would not have been surprised.

She cleared her throat. "May I please be excused?" She yawned.

The entire room seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for Thranduil to answer. For a moment he remained silent, his eyes trailing over her. What did he think? His eyes moved back to Tauriel.

"She would like to leave. Are you finished eating so that you may escort her out?"

Bilbo scowled.

"For the last time, she does not need me as a bodyguard!" She stood, but Legolas placed a hand on her wrist. He shot her a pleading look. She sighed. "I am finished eating. I will take her to her room."

Bilbo stood up, then pushed in her chair. All eyes in the room were on the two of them. Legolas had leaned up and was whispering something into Tauriel's ear. If the look on her face was any indication, then it did not do anything to comfort her.

Bilbo could only hope that she saw reason; there was no use starting up a fight over this. Still, the elf woman's hand had wrapped harder around her bow.

The two walked into the hallway. Once outside and away from prying eyes, Bilbo leaned against a wall. Whatever had just happened had really made her lose her energy. Was that really a dinner? It seemed more like a nightmare.

Tauriel glared directly at Bilbo. "What are you just doing standing there? You need to get to get to your room."

Bilbo sighed, then began to walk. Tauriel stood behind her, completely silent.

"I did not want this either," Bilbo said, "so do not blame me for this."

"Who said that I did?"

"Well there is no point in being angry at me."

"I can be angry at whoever I please. Just promise to not get in my way."

"You know, you seemed so much more reasonable before the battle-"

"Do not speak of that!"

Bilbo's heart skipped a beat. The sound echoed across the hall. She was quite sure that she would be remembering that sound for a long time.

She quickened her pace.

* * *

Tauriel sighed. "And you are sure that talking to your father will help?" She hated to admit it, but he was her last hope.

"I can only hope." Legolas fired. "You agreed to practice shooting with me. Why worry about that right now? Or do you want to get beaten?"

She smirked. "Oh, so is that your new plan?" She prepared her bow for fire. "That, my friend, was just a lucky shot."

* * *

If anything, her night was terrible. Even when she slept, eyes closed tight with hope, she could not get herself some peace. Visions of Erebor filled her mind. Dwarves walked before her, and all sides she was surrounded by rock.

She could not see the dwarf speaking, but she knew who they were. Bilbo could recognize that voice everywhere. From the sounds of the footsteps and the way she spoke, she was with another.

Bilbo's mind wondered to her ring. If she could only get it on then Thorin would not see her and she could get out. Rummaging in her pockets, however, proved pointless. As much as she searched, the magic ring that had helped her so many times before was nowhere to be found.

The footsteps got closer. No, it was not just two dwarves. Three? Four? Surely it could not be more than five.

Could it?

What would they say when they saw her?

She could not quite tell what Thorin said; though the sound echoed across the wall, it seemed muffled, turning into a strange gibberish. Was it Khuzdul? Could they be speaking of her?

The footsteps came closer.

It was only then that Bilbo thought to run. Where had her mind been earlier? Anyone in their right mind would have burst out running earlier.

Then there was one word that she understood. "Halfling."

* * *

For a moment she had actually thought that Thranduil was correct. How could she not when a scream such as that ripped throughout the halls? It had been luck that Tauriel had returned from training when she heard it.

She had burst in through the door, bow aimed to fire. Legolas had been behind her, his own bow out.

Genuine fear had ran up her spine; there was enough danger from the spiders, and it had seemed as though more had entered inside of Mirkwood.

All she found, however, was a messy haired hobbit looking straight at her. She denied any question that Tauriel asked.

"Where are they?" Tauriel looked under her bed. "There was someone or something here!"

Legolas put a hand on her shoulder. "Tauriel, please, she has already otherwise. Could you calm yourself?"

She broke free of him. "Legolas, did you hear her scream?"

"I am sure that the men of Lake Town heard her! Could you please just quiet?"

The door suddenly opened to a pale faced Thranduil and a number of guards.

* * *

Legolas never did get his chance to talk to his father. The scare only riled up Thranduil's worries, even when there was proof that nothing was wrong. There may not have been a single sign of anyone in there, and the hobbit may have denied multiple times that anyone had been in there, but Thranduil still used it to fuel his own fire.

Tauriel scowled, cleaning her bow. Sitting on the bed was Bilbo, who was reading a book. Neither had spoken to each other since they had gone to the markets. All eyes had been on them, and none turned their eyes. Did Thranduil mean to make her a laughingstock? If so, he had succeeded.

"Do you know how to shoot a bow?" Tauriel did not look up to the woman when she spoke.

"Excuse me?"

Tauriel forced back a sigh. "Do you know how to shoot a bow?"

"No," Bilbo said. "Why?"

"That answers my question," Tauriel responded. She looked into the hobbit's eyes, holding her with her gaze. "Tomorrow I am going to start training you. If any of these incidents occur again then you will at least have something to help you out. Does that not sound reasonable?"

* * *

"Do not hold it like that," Tauriel said, walking over to her. "What do you think this is, a toy? You have to aim this carefully."

"I am aiming it carefully!" Bilbo put her hands on her hips. "I do not want to get eaten by a spider any more than you do!"

"Just pose like I do." Tauriel repositioned herself. Her back ached, and she needed to rest, but this was one lesson that she refused to repeat. It was so basic! "It is simple."

Bilbo did so. She looked well enough, but she gripped her bow too lightly. Her eyes were not on the target on the wall; in the future, that could be an enemy.

"Focus," Tauriel said. "Imagine that you are on the battlefield or facing off against spiders."

"I am trying!" Bilbo broke her stance, turning to Tauriel. "What has you so angry?"

"I am not angry, only frustrated that I must do this. If you cannot do this, then how can I expect you to fare against enemies?"

"You know perfectly well that I can fight off enemies! I was in the war as well!" She stomped her foot. "Stop being so angry at me! You know that I do not want this!"

Tauriel clenched her fists. "I keep telling you, I am not angry!"

"Oh, and I am not a hobbit!" She dropped the bow that Tauriel had loaned her onto the ground. "I refuse to stand through another minute of this. I am leaving!"

"You are not!" She stepped closer. "Pick up the bow and get back to work. If you would just get this pose done correctly then we can finish for the day, alright?" That certainly seemed reasonable enough.

"No," Bilbo said. "I could never get the position just the way that you want it. I was doing wonderful earlier, but I was not doing it every last way that you were. How am I supposed to be you?"

"You sound ridiculous!"

"I speak the truth!" Bilbo ran forward, darting past Tauriel.

Quickly, the elf ran after her. She had never thought that the small woman would be so fast. Already, she had darted out of the room and into the hallway.

"Hobbit!" Tauriel raced across the room. "What has gotten into you? I was trying to make a deal with you!"

Out in the hallway, she looked both ways. There was no sign of her. Had she gone left? Or was it right?

She ground her teeth together. Thranduil was going to hear about this, and she would make her king listen.

* * *

Bilbo forced herself not to laugh. The ring could hide her from being seen, but it had no effect on the noises she made. There had been more than a few close encounters in the Mirkwood dungeons over her accidentally making noise. The elves surely would have found her and thrown her in jail with the dwarves. If Tauriel caught her then it would probably be even worse.

At least if she got caught.

Quietly, she tiptoed behind the elf.

"Bilbo!" Tauriel roared. "Where are you?"

Not far, Bilbo thought.

"Where did you go? Do you think that this is funny?"

No, Bilbo thought, but it certainly makes some good entertainment.

What would Tauriel's bow do to help her here? She could not shoot what she could not see.


	6. Chapter 6

After following Tauriel around for a while, Bilbo learned that it was not nearly as exciting as she had originally hoped. The elf looked for her for a while, then simply gave up. She did not keep her ears open or make even the slightest indication that she suspected that something unusual was going on.

Tauriel simply went back to her other duties. Bilbo found herself back in the dungeons of Mirkwood, just as dreary and damp as when she had first been there. The air smelled awful, the place thick with the scent of mold and decay. Surprisingly, there were few prisoners now that the dwarves were gone. Most of them looked as though they would drop dead at any moment. Bilbo had hardly noticed them while she had been there, too busy worried at helping her (former) friends escape.

Bilbo did not know what possessed her to keep following the elf warrior. There were so many other places that she could go, other places that she could see. Of all the places in Mirkwood, this had to be one of the worst parts.

Tauriel spoke to the guards, spouting off numbers and information in her strange elvish tongue. The guards spoke openly with her. From what Bilbo could guess, the conversation seemed to be about everything and anything. Hardly understanding anything beyond the name "Thranduil", she eventually walked away. Finally, she had lost interest in following around her "bodyguard".

As she followed her way out of the dungeon by memory, she passed a familiar cell. Bile rising in her throat, she forced herself to look away from the cell that had housed the queen under the mountain.

* * *

Erebor had not been anything exciting. Life had settled into a dull silence, a routine mapped out for her by Thorin. On one hand, she was grateful for being forgiven by Thorin. On the other hand, this was not what she wanted from her life. Waking early to break her back over this land was not worth it. Whatever sparked the dwarves to do so did not spark her.

The queen may have forgiven her, but they rarely spoke. The two slept in separate rooms, and their paths hardly ever crossed. Time and time again, Bilbo had tried to find some way to speak with her, even if only for a few minutes. Could things not be repaired? Thorin only brushed her aside, stating that she had countless duties.

It was so hard, living for a place that she did not even want to live in. Though the Shire had lost its spark, it at least had something to entice her. Good food and green, grassy hills were much better than a cold, hard mountain.

The other members of the company rarely spoke to her. They too were busy. A few were hesitant to speak to her, though some at least tried to make light conversation. Most, if not all, of the time, it seemed as though neither knew exactly what they were saying. Their conversations were then forgotten immediately after.

Bilbo Baggins did not want to live like this; she had not left Bag End and her old, happy (if boring) life for this. What was the point of staying around? Thorin probably would not even have noticed her gone.

She spoke word to all the dwarves who needed to know of her going, none of whom were in the company. They took note, gave her some gruff advice for traveling on the road, and then let her get her things. She made contact with Gandalf, thankfully who had not left yet, then said goodbye to Erebor.

* * *

"If you would like," Olnen, one of her most loyal guards, said, "then we will help you look for this hobbit."

His partner nodded. She gripped her bow tighter, eyes meeting Tauriel's own.

"I thank you for your offer," Tauriel responded, "but this is my own issue. Besides, there are other things that I must attend to."

"It is of no problem to us."

Tauriel shook her head. "I must politely refuse." She swallowed the lump in her throat. They were so eager to help her that it was hard to say no. "It is truly kind of you, but I have to say no."

The two nodded.

"Just keep an eye on things," Tauriel said. "The battle may be over, but that does not mean that things are right. Ask the returning scouts on what news they have of the growing threats. First spiders, then rumors of the Necromancer... It is ridiculous."

They nodded once more.

"But," Tauriel added, "if we must fight them, then we will."

* * *

Her ring may have been useful, but sometimes Bilbo doubted if she really wanted to use it or not. Though it was practical in some aspects, it made her feel disconnected from the world. That only made her feel even lonelier.

Now that she had left the Shire, left her warm, comfy home, was this the fate that awaited her? The life of a thief, once considered great? Bilbo could hardly be called anything then, just a guest in the halls of a land that would never be her own.

She wondered the halls, looking for somewhere to sneak inside and take her ring off. It would be so nice to be back in reality, even if only for a few moments. The ring made the world seem like a dream, though not a particularly good one.

* * *

Tauriel was surprised to find the hobbit back training, but she made no indication of it. Bilbo was supposed to be doing this.

"Your aim is getting better." That was all that she wold allow herself to say on the matter; it was the only thing one hundred percent true that would leave her lips. The targets on the wall were getting more and more arrows shot into them, and more and more hit the best parts.

"Thank you," Bilbo responded, then fired again.

"How did you learn so quickly?" This surely could not have just been beginner's luck. Even better, she was gripping the bow exactly as it needed to be.

Even her pose resembled Tauriel's.

"I have had training with a bow before."

"Really?" Tauriel raised an eyebrow. She had certainly been skilled with a sword, though Tauriel never would have guessed her to be the bow type. Bilbo learning how to use one had been a Mirkwood essential.

"Yes." She took another arrow from the quiver on her back. It was starting to run low.

"Who taught you?" Tauriel collected a few more arrows and dropped them into Bilbo's quiver.

"A friend," she said, "a dwarf."

Tauriel pursed her lips. Out of all the dwarves she had met, both before the battle and after, only one had used a bow.

"Was his name Kili?"

Bilbo froze.

"I would expect so; he was in your group of dwarves. Speaking of that, what did happen between you and that group? I only know bits and pieces."

Bilbo dropped her bow to the ground. "It does not matter."

"How can it not matter? You-"

"I think that he mentioned you a few times." Bilbo frowned. "Never negatively, of course. I thought that you two were friends. If so, then get the information from him. He's still at the mountain, unlike myself." She removed her quiver, dropping it onto the floor. Arrows spilled out, littering the floor. Then, she walked away.

* * *

"Maybe," Legolas said, "she meant no offense. Did you stop to think that there might be a reason for why she never brings up the dwarves? You had to at least seen part of what happened before the battle. It was not pretty."

"What do you mean?" She sighed, finally having finished cleaning things up just as she wanted them to look.

"You would think that after going on an entire adventure with them that she would have many things to say on them. Perhaps she would have a few braids in her hair, wear heavy clothing, or at least have a collection of dwarven knickknacks. Even her weapons were not made by dwarves. For someone who spent so much time with dwarves, only then did she speak to you of one."

He folded his hands together. "She did not even bring them up while we ate with father. Now tell me, does that not at least sound a little strange?"

Tauriel took a moment to think over his words. Never before had she thought of it, but she could find no way to call his words false.

"I know how you are about dwarves," Legolas said. "You have some strange fascination for them, though I cannot tell why."

Tauriel glared at him.

"What? I was only pointing out a fact. Besides, just because I do not understand why you like dwarves does not mean that I am angry. If I could not handle you wanting to make peace with Aule's folk then I would have surely left you to die at the hands of thirty orcs."

Tauriel nodded.

For a moment, both stood in silence. What he said made crystal clear sense, but at the same time she could not think of anything else to say on the matter.

"Your father," she said, forcing back a sigh. "Does he regret what he did?"

"Did what? Is this about you being that halfling woman's bodyguard?"

Tauriel removed her necklace from under her shirt, then held it up to the light. It shined brightly, the jewel reflecting all around her. "When he gave this to me, after my parents died, and made me part of your family..."

She could remember it now. The crying, the uncertainty. The immortality but the mortality, the perfect moment turned sour. The friend turned older brother, the former boss of both her parents suddenly trying to make her feel better.

It had all been so strange.

Yet, after all the years that she had spent with them, she could not bring herself to think badly of it. That was just how things became the way that they were. No one could have saved her parents from the orcs; those injuries were too much even for the greatest of elven healers.

"Is this his way of punishing me?" She put the jewel away. As a child, it had brought no comfort, no matter what it symbolized. It would not bring her parents back, nor would it kill the scum that took them from her. "Because I went off to help the dwarves, is he now forcing me to look after the hobbit in return?"

Legolas looked away from her. "I do not know."

"Do you think that it is true?"

"Tauriel, I do not know." He sighed. "I just want you to know that he still cares. I know he is not good at showing it; I know. But what you did ultimately was right. What you did was incredibly brave. Had that beast lived longer, many guess that he would have turned to the side of evil."

For once, the thought brought no comfort.

"He still cares?"

"Of course he cares. He has always favored you; you are more like your parents than you think. Both of us realized this, and neither of us wanted you to end up like them."


	7. Chapter 7

"My king," she said, "have you reconsidered?"

He did not even look to her. He eyed one of the many antlers lining his throne, then reached out and absently began to stroke one. "No."

"My king, Thranduil-"

"My position has not changed. I trust her to you, Tauriel, and to no other."

"But you must understand-"

"No, you must!" His eyes met her, as cold as ice. He stood up, his shadow falling over her. The feeling of fear that had crossed so many prisoners' faces before formed in her. "I have more important things to worry about then you avoiding my direct orders. Do you not realize that there is still business to be done? Dale must be rebuilt, along with trade dealings made. Erebor has recently ordered enough wine to give ten armies. I have to prepare everyone for the coronation of Thorin! Is that clear?"

Her stomach twisted. She nodded. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

"Wake up," Tauriel spoke, leaning over Bilbo's bed. "It is well past the time that you said that you would be awake."

Bilbo groaned, rubbing her eyes. Maybe this was just another dream, and a horrible one at that. Who would ever want to be awake at this time? She sighed.

"Tauriel," she said, doing her best to be polite, "could you please give me a few more minutes?"

"But you said earlier that you would be awake an hour ago. Do you know how long that I waited?"

Bilbo was quite sure that Tauriel had found something else to do in that time, but she did not say it. There were enough problems between them already. It was best just to keep her mouth shut. "Tauriel, I did not have any way of indicating the time." In fact, she was not sure if time existed in Mirkwood, at least not in the way that Bilbo traditionally thought of it. Time in the Shire was measured by the sun and the shadows it cast. In Mirkwood, any light around cast shadows. No sunlight came in through the trees. Whether it was day or night, Bilbo did not actually know. Perhaps even the elves did not know.

"I will give you a few minutes." She turned around and paced to the end of the room, then closed the door.

With another sigh, Bilbo got up and began to prepare for the day.

* * *

The routine that Tauriel started, Bilbo found, could actually be enjoyable. All she had to do was exercise for some time and then fire her bow for a while. Nothing too hard, and nothing that she could not do. Once everything was finished, she would put on her ring and vanish. As the days passed, Tauriel got more and more used to it.

"You better be thankful that you are good at hiding!" the elf had yelled. "Just pray that the orc is not good at finding!" However, there was a playful tone to her voice.

She even questioned how she did it a few times. Bilbo's answer was that she had done this a number of times before. It took: courage, light feet, and a hobbit's state of mind.

"And what, Bilbo, is a hobbit's state of mind?" She had raised an eyebrow, an amused expression crossing her lips.

"Something that you will never know of." Bilbo had smiled. "I cannot reveal all my secrets, can I?"

Her vanishing did give Tauriel time to do her other work. Truly, the woman had done no wrong, and Bilbo was sorry that she had to be assigned such a role. Taking out anger on her would only make things worse.

If Thranduil knew of their doings, Bilbo did not know. He never made comment on them, nor were either checked on.

* * *

It had taken Bilbo far too long to get around to looking around the Mirkwood library. Many days, she had not even been busy. Some days, most after she had gotten accustomed to living in the elf land, she did not even think of it at all. The library of Rivendell had been one of the first places that she had checked out.

The idea had come to her that day, unexpectedly but most welcome. She had woken up from a dream that had nothing to do with books in the slightest, but she had craved the written word. Elves were famous for their texts, and surely Mirkwood would have something. Whether it was just a history of the land or a guide on how to kill spiders, the kingdom must have something. As strange as the place was, it was still quite elvish.

The question had slipped from her lips without her even realizing it. "Tauriel, does Mirkwood have a library?"

She had been training with Tauriel, preparing her body for whatever might have been in store that day. Both had been working together silently.

Tauriel nodded. "Why?" She continued her stretches. Her body moved with a certain grace, something that the elf probably did not even realize that she possessed. It was natural; she was clearly used to what she was doing.

"I am just curious. Lately, I have had very little to read." She still had not figured out the exact schedule for the Mirkwood book stands. It was luck only when she was able to find a stand open in the markets, and a miracle when she found something that she could actually read.

"Why did you not bring it up before?" She pulled her leg up almost impossibly high. Earlier, she had been doing the splits without even the slightest look of effort.

"It had slipped my mind."

"Would you like me to show you where it is?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful." Bilbo had thought that Tauriel would only give her directions, but this was even better. "Thank you very much."

Tauriel smirked. "You do realize that if I show you where the library is that you cannot run away from me? Or will you find a way to hide among the shelves of books?"

"No," Bilbo responded. "I did not think that you would stay once you got me there."

"Whether we wish to believe it or not, Thranduil still expects me to guard you."

"Who would attack me in the library?"

"Whoever felt the need to attack you." She held out her hand to Bilbo. "Now, are we to be off? You have exercised enough here; the walk to the library will help you with the rest."

* * *

Tauriel was correct. Bilbo had all but collapsed when she finally reached the library. She leaned against the wall, then breathed in and out, clearing her head.

"Well," Tauriel said, directing Bilbo's attention to the large wooden door, "here it is." She placed her hand over the dark doorknob, then pulled it open.

* * *

For a moment, Bilbo could only stand still and look at what was right in front of her. Around her, everywhere, were books. She had never expected to see so many in Mirkwood's library. She had expected it to never compare to Lord Elrond's library, both in its actual size and beauty. Though it was smaller than Lord Elrond's back in Rivendell, it was more than small. Dark shelves covered in books filled her eyes. Oh, where should she start?

"This," she said, "is wonderful. Oh, Tauriel, I love this place!"

Tauriel smiled. "I am glad that you brought it up; I never would have shown it to you had you not mentioned it."

Bilbo ran forward, running her hands over the leather spines of some of the books. She had originally pictured water stained paged books with cracked spines. However, these were in wonderful condition.

She breathed in the smell around her. In a way, it reminded her of both her own collection of books at home, the ones that she had shared with her parents, and Lord Elrond's library. Just like his library, this one had a magic to it, one that Bilbo could not put to words. To feel that magic...

Well, there was nothing quite like that feeling in the world.

Bilbo began to read the back covers of the books, searching for something of interest. Though the spoken words in Mirkwood were hard to decipher, all the books here were in standard elvish. She grabbed one and began to flip through it. There were books of every kind here, more than she could ever read in a lifetime even if she tried.

And, just like with Lord Elrond's library, this was worth traveling to see. Running along, she grabbed a few books. Choosing just one would be absolutely impossible.

* * *

How many years had it been since she had last been inside of this place? The most recent time that she could think of was sixty years prior, and that was only because Legolas needed to get something. Considering she had little memory of the layout of the place, she did not know her way around it. She had gotten lost twice on the way to it, and she could only hope that Bilbo had not noticed.

"Tauriel," Bilbo said, looking up from her book. Her hair was spilled out around her, some of it falling near her eyes. "What is this word?" She held the book out to her, finger pointed at it. "I have never seen it before."

Tauriel squinted. "I do not know."

"You do not know?"

"Do you even realize how old that book is?"

"No." Bilbo looked over it. "It is well preserved."

"No one speaks that word aloud any longer." She sighed.

* * *

Tauriel had started to count the cracks in the ceiling. That was all that there was besides the gentle sound of the hobbit speaking. She was quite good at this, emphasizing the different characters the best ways that she could. She had picked the story out, a rather boring one if Tauriel had to say so herself, and made it exciting. She had never been one for elven love stories. They did not resonate with her and her people. If one elf wanted another, then usually they found a way to get them. No one was strict about that thing in Mirkwood until they decided to be strict; the few married couples that there were showed a deep love.

Her parents had.

She wondered whom Bilbo was really speaking of. Was she only concerned for the characters in the books? Tauriel could not even remember their names. Did she only like the plot? Or was she thinking of someone else? She had never mentioned having parents, so she could only hope that she had seen in her parents what Tauriel had also seen in her own.

And, from everything Legolas had gathered, she had no one of her own.

"Would you like me to read more?"

Tauriel nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

"I never thought of you as the reading type." Legolas said.

Tauriel did not even avert her eyes from the book. Why should she? She was at a wonderful part, and she could only guess what was going to happen next.

"Not that there is anything wrong with it. Still, it is surprising to see you with a book in your hands."

"Stop, Legolas, or you will have the book against your face." She scowled. Why could he not take her hint and leave her alone?

"She really is changing you. Not that there is anything wrong with that either."

"This book is hundreds of pages long. What if I dropped it on your feet instead?" Finally, she looked up.

Legolas looked away from her. He reached to the ground, picking up the bow he had laid down. "I need to be getting back to my duties. The best of luck with whatever you are doing today."

Tauriel smirked. "And best wishes to you as well."

* * *

There was nothing quite like this. For once, she wanted to be outside and around the spiders. She pulled back an arrow, then watched it fly and hit a spider headed towards her. Bilbo had little time to celebrate her hit, however, as soon she was facing off against another.

"Bilbo, how are you doing?" Tauriel yelled. She was busy dealing with her own problems. Two spiders were fighting off against her.

"I am doing fine!" Pushing forward, she ran forward and ran Sting into the closest spider's back. It fell down, freeing Tauriel slightly. She kicked the nearest spider, then shot an arrow at it.

"You are!" Tauriel shot her a quick grin.

"Do not get cocky!" Legolas broke in. He moved to the right, barely avoiding a spider. "These are monsters that we are dealing with. I do not know about you, but I do not want to end up tied in any webs!"

Bilbo put Sting back in its sheath, then tightened her grip on her bow. All the training really had been worth it. She had been thrilled when Tauriel had invited her to go hunting with them.

A few soldiers began to yell in elvish, and Tauriel and Legolas yelled back. By then, Bilbo had started to pick up on some of it. Certainly not a great deal, but a good amount. She could catch bits and pieces of conversation, and from there it was not hard to guess what they were trying to say. This was no elaborate puzzle to be solved.

They were leaving soon. That was good; Bilbo was getting tired.

* * *

The closer that it got to the coronation, the more anxious that Tauriel got. Thranduil was making her do paper work of all things. Paper after paper was pressed into her hand, and she had to read over all of it. Once she finished, she then had to sign things. Most of it was rather flattering, personal thanks for her help with the dwarves, and it did please her. However, she wished they did not write so small, nor did they write such long letters.

She would have asked Bilbo for help, she really would have. The hobbit was much better than her at those kinds of things. How she did it, Tauriel would never know. But this was not a subject that she brought up with her. How would she react to that?

For that, she braved through the work alone, never asking for help from anyone. It was her own secret.

For that, she pretended that Bilbo could never find out.

* * *

Like all things, it eventually came to be known. It was completely out of her control. Long ago, she had learned that her king hardly ever changed. If she had asked him to not bring it up, he most likely still would have.

This was political, and eventually the whole kingdom would have had to known. The king would be leaving.

When Thranduil said it, Tauriel looked down at her food. She did not see Bilbo's reaction; she already knew what it was.

* * *

She did not say that it was Tauriel's fault; of course Tauriel had no control over it.

Still, the sudden silence between them was awful. Tauriel wanted to wake her up again, to train with her, and to go out and fight. There was still so much left to be discovered about her.

That hobbit really was good at vanishing without a leaving a trace.

* * *

It seemed that every other word spoken over the next few weeks was of Erebor. Even when Bilbo would sneak off into the furthest corners of the kingdom, keeping her ring on, she still heard word of Erebor. Some elf or the other had wine barrels to make, or clothes for the king to make, or even gifts to be given to the royal family. Those ranged everywhere from elvish jewelry to wine glasses to knives.

She leaned against a wall, then put her hands over her ears. It was the same thing that she would do when she was little, when noises got too loud.

It was a shame that she could not block out everything.

* * *

Tauriel did not know why Bilbo went, nor what possessed her to do it. Still, she accepted some loose elvish wear and followed them to the mountain. No words were shared between them, but when Tauriel pushed the small ring and the note into her hand, she took it.

Before they separated paths, she noticed the ring shining on her finger. On her own hand was the exact same one, though slightly larger to fit her finger.

* * *

She slipped on her ring, then explored the city once more. She stayed in the shadows, away from the crowds of dwarves. In a short time, the city truly had been restored. Though she did not know any of the dwarves there, she was at least glad that they were happy. They were not Thorin, they were not the company, only people desperate to again reach the home that they were robbed of.

* * *

Tauriel seemed surprised to see her again. "I was wondering where you had run off to. I was worried."

"I am fine now."

Tauriel wrapped an arm protectively around her. "Are you alright? You really did not have to come."

"I could not leave you, could I? Leaving you alone with all these dwarves would have been terrible. You know that Thranduil and Legolas would have left most of the work on you."

Tauriel chuckled. "You read them like a book."

"Oh, it was just a lucky guess."

She held her hand up, watching the small gold and diamond ring flicker in the candlelight. She never would have guessed that Tauriel would give her such a thing, especially since they had only known each other for a short time. But then again, after this was over they would be going back to Mirkwood, and Bilbo could not see herself leaving any time soon.

She leaned closer to Tauriel, running a few fingers through her hair. It was so soft and silky, and Bilbo could hardly keep herself from getting her fingers tangled in it.

For the first time in a long time, a very, very long time, she was not afraid.


	9. Chapter 9

Tauriel ran her fingers through the hobbit's hair. It had been a long time since she had tried to sleep, but she had done so at Bilbo's request. Earlier, it had seemed pointless. There was so much for her still to do. Still, she had not known what to do. Bilbo had wanted her to do it, and there truly was no harm to it.

She had forgotten how peaceful sleeping could be. There were no duties, no worries. All there was were whatever she dreamed of, that and the hobbit sleeping next to her. She had awoken next to a gently sleeping hobbit.

Her own eyes were heavy, ready to sleep again. Bilbo seemed to be at peace.

Her eyes shut, her body relaxing completely. The elf felt peace.

* * *

"You have everything that you could ever want." Dis smiled. "Your kingdom, your family, your friends, and your gold."

Thorin forced a smile. She knew everything was true, save those last words. It took all her effort to fight the gold sickness, to simply admire the metal.

It ripped through her walls, called out to her like a mermaid to a sailor lost at sea. Thorin was having so much trouble not falling for its spell.

She would stay strong; she had to.

"What more could you possibly need?"

A face flashed through Thorin's mind. Dis had never met her, only heard of her, and only what Thorin had wanted her to hear.

But Bilbo was gone. The last that Thorin had heard of was that she was at Thorin's crowning, though she was not sure whether it was a rumor or not. No one knew the truth. The Mirkwood delegates had left rather early; Thranduil had decided on skipping the formal conversations altogether. Nori swore that he had seen Bilbo next to a red haired elf. The thief was known to be a liar, one who could invent stories just as quickly as his younger brother.

Thorin's stomach twisted. Wherever she was, it was not here. If Thorin tried looking for her, she was not sure that she would ever find her again. Ever since she had stepped out her round green door, she had been a changed hobbit.


End file.
